CHAPTER 236: 226 CAPTAIN JIANG DOESN’T WANT TO TAKE THE BLAME (TWO IN ONE 4242)

"My performance is over, thank you everyone. You were all very enthusiastic." Tian Sangsang took a deep bow and exited the stage. By the end, it wasn’t even her singing anymore. She would sing one line, and the soldiers would pick up the next. After a few lines, Tian Sangsang didn’t even need to continue—they just started singing on their own.

And their voices completely overpowered Tian Sangsang’s. Honestly, they sang it better than she did. After all, this was a man’s song.

Even after stepping down from the podium, Tian Sangsang’s heart was still racing. They say our country has the largest population in the world—then imagine all those people singing. The sound was deafening, unlike the solemn silence when the national anthem is played. No, this was an earth-shattering, overwhelming roar!

"Clap, clap, clap, clap..." Thunderous applause erupted, echoing endlessly.

The subsequent acts included group singing and dancing, but with the fiery enthusiasm brought about by the first act, the audience couldn’t quite snap out of it. Some people were even unconsciously humming under their breath, "When you see injustice, give a roar, act when it’s time to act, forge ahead boldly across the land."

Ji Yao’er was on stage dancing, performing a folk dance, twisting her waist and waving her arms. Normally, the soldiers’ eyes would be glued to her every move. But today, they seemed distracted. After experiencing "Hero Song," the rest of the acts felt too timid and reserved to the soldiers—just not grand enough. They preferred something more bold and spirited.

And so, for this Mid-Autumn Festival performance, the first act was simply too remarkable. The later acts all fell flat, failed to engage the audience, and became mere background noise.

"Our Captain is really living the good life. His wife is incredible."

"Yeah, if she weren’t married, I’d be the first to chase her."

"What are you saying? That’s the Captain’s wife you’re talking about!"

"My bad, my bad."

"The Captain’s already got a wife, and here we are still single."

"So envious."

"No wonder the Captain and his wife have such a strong bond. With a wife like that, of course they would."

"Last time, the Captain even got a new bed."

"..."

"Obviously, obviously... come on, it’s our Captain we’re talking about... absolutely reliable."

Rustling whispers and murmurs filled the air.

In a short time, the conversation started to change. Before, the soldiers thought Tian Sangsang wasn’t a good match for Captain Jiang, but now they felt the two were quite suited for each other. They cared about their Captain, so inevitably, they began taking an interest in his personal life too.

As for the supposedly "lucky" Captain Jiang being talked about, he was sitting quietly in his chair, his deep eyes filled with "restlessness." Little did they know, Captain Jiang wasn’t happy at all—he had been celibate for five years. However, he still belonged to the restrained type. After all, he was a soldier, and discipline came with the territory. He had no woman in his life, only his son.

So, please stop spreading nonsense about his so-called married life. That burden of gossip? He didn’t want any part of it. He had even signed a military marriage agreement back then. Come to think of it, why hadn’t he hesitated before signing it?

**

It wasn’t until the final performance that the crowd’s mood gradually settled.

This last act was the grand finale—featuring the children.

After Tian Sangsang finished her performance, she stayed near the stage but didn’t go find Jiang Jinghuai or their son. There were just too many people; she couldn’t squeeze through.

The kindergarteners, all children of soldiers, filed onto the stage in an orderly line under Shui Lian’s guidance, like baby chicks following a mother hen in a game of Eagle and Chicks.

They were dressed in matching little green jackets, looking like tiny liberation soldiers with their heads held high and chests puffed out.

Standing at the front of the stage, Shui Lian wore a modest long cotton dress with subdued tones that accented her delicate and pristine face. She resembled a lotus flower blooming quietly in clear water.

Tian Sangsang looked on with a faint smile. To be honest, Shui Lian did seem well-suited to the role of a teacher at times.

In a soft voice, Shui Lian recited, "The moon in the sky is round and full."

The children echoed in unison, "The moon in the sky is round and full—"

"Its light reflected in the sea like a jade plate."

"Its light reflected in the sea like a jade plate—"

Since the kids were still in kindergarten, performances requiring complex actions were too hard to teach. Recitation was simple and easy—all they had to do was speak.

Though Tian Sangsang didn’t have much affection for Shui Lian, watching the kids’ innocent and heartfelt performance won her over. When others clapped, she clapped just as enthusiastically, offering her applause to the children.

Especially when she saw Lin Dongni—a pale and soft, quiet and well-behaved little girl—her heart nearly burst into sweetness, like a piece of white rabbit milk candy. This child was just too adorable. If Dongni weren’t three years older than Meng Shuyan, Tian Sangsang would’ve been tempted to snatch her up as her future daughter-in-law.